Supernatural
by Thirteen37
Summary: Blake, a retired huntress at 24, gets pulled back into the supernatural world when her blonde date kidnaps her. OR RWBY in the CW's supernatural AU - you don't need to know anything from the show to read. Main ship is bumblebee, featuring white rose. Plot and ships are equal importance :). Possibly M in later chapters.
1. Bunnies and wolves

**A/N: I've had this story locked away in the back of my computer files for a while. It's actually half-way done. I never posted it because I didn't think anyone would care about this AU sooo if you hate it just ignore it, but I hope you like it? I based this story off of the CW's Supernatural, but you really don't need to have seen the show to know anything. If you've seen it then I'll say that this story doesn't follow their plotline. I just reuse some monsters from the show and their terminology. R/R please, I'd like to know if anyone wants to actually read this experiment. If so, I'd gladly post the rest :)!**

 **I feel like this AU needs a prologue soooo here's a prologue featuring freezerburn friendship**

* * *

 **PROLOGUE: Bunnies and Wolves**

…

 **YANG XIAO LONG AND WEISS SCHNEE**

"Seriously this was your emergency. Why do you have this, you collecting weird shit for your hobby again?"

Yang sat across from Weiss Schnee, a human sorceress she's had the pleasure of being frenemies with ever since they met twenty years ago. They were having an early breakfast at some roadside diner in the middle of nowhere, West Texas. She travelled over 24 hours by car from Virginia. Not sure how she even made it on time for the meeting with her longtime partner of sorts. They had been studying the supernatural world together since day one. It wasn't until five years ago that both of them decided to roam the country slaying bad guys together. About a month ago, Yang decided to take a break to heal her dislocated shoulder.

Now here she was in the middle of West Texas, responding to Weiss's emergency call.

Between the two of them, besides Yang's breakfast and Weiss's cup of tea, was a charm. A rabbit's foot to be specific. An item that grants whoever holds it: extreme luck—at least that's what the myths say.

Weiss gave Yang her infamous cold glare. "No you dolt, I stole it."

Yang chuckled. "You stole a bunny's foot. Don't tell me you seriously think this crap gives you luck. _Silly Weiss, Trix are for kids!_ " Yang joked.

"Okay one, it's more than a rabbit's foot. Two, I wouldn't be caught dead eating that horrendous box of munchies—"

"Hey! That horrendous box of munchies was a childhood foundation for Ruby and I!"

Weiss scoffs, "so are terrible puns and useless cartoons you—and who now?"

"My sister _you dolt_ ," Yang mimicked Weiss, flicking her blonde hair in exaggeration. Although Yang and Weiss had known each other for two decades, Weiss never met Ruby, Yang didn't bring the topic of her younger sister up often.

They often joked and teased one another, but Weiss was probably the closest thing Yang had to a best friend. Weiss wasn't much of a hunter but the girl knew her mythology and brewology and probably supernatural biology. Point is, Weiss was Yang's go to person whenever she encounter something she didn't know how to hunt. Weiss mostly like knew how to find the target's weaknesses, while Yang was the one who often executed it. It made for a good partnership.

Weiss and Yang may seem like they have a complicated relationship, but really it's simpler than middle school math. Yang's parents were hunters who brought her over to Weiss's for ' _play dates_ ' where they learn about the informalities of the world that most humans did not know about.

Yang was given the role of becoming a full-fledged huntress, sworn duty to protect the humankind. Weiss inherited her family's trade of sorcery. It was a rare gift among humans, only a handful of humans had the ability to possess such a talent. Weiss was exceptional at it—however when it came to hunting, she was exceptionally horrific. The girl couldn't shoot a beer bottle five feet away much less stick a stake into a vampire.

"I'm being followed. Five or twenty of them, I don't know what species. I'm guessing lycanthrope, which wouldn't be good because we're still in their territory if it is." Weiss sips her tea, side glancing the people who chimed in from the front entrance of the small diner. "I need you to escort me to Atlanta. I have a deal with a woman from Russia named Katherine, she's buying the charm," Weiss holds up the rabbit's foot attached to a chain, "for five million USD. I'll split the profits with you 70/30."

"50/50."

"What—no, I came up with the plan and I stole the foot from a crazed woman. 60/40."

The door chimed open again as a the diner was suddenly becoming more and more crowded with hungry customers. "You realize I left a hot chick in my luxury suite without notice because you deem this animal part," Yang holds up the rabbit's foot, "an emergency. Not only that. You're filthy stinking rich Ms. Heiress to the SDC."

Weiss rolls her eyes, muttering an okay.

"Yang, people would killed just to hold that for a second. It's not an ordinary rabbit's foot," Weiss sighed, "it's _cursed_."

Yang's eyes widen, not in shock, no they widened in interest. "Cursed bad or good…?"

"Cursed—"

Weiss was rudely interrupted by the sound of more people entering the small diner. Both she and Yang looked up to find themselves surrounded by a large gang of sorts. Well if Weiss had to guess, lycanthropes. She guessed right.

Yang's posture doesn't change. She holds her composure, continuing to eat her breakfast as if big bad wolves weren't breathing down their necks.

"Yang you brought silver right?" Weiss asked a little less calm than her counterpart. Who didn't respond with much, instead slinging the rabbit's foot around her neck like a necklace and leaving a ten-dollar bill on the table.

"Normally my answer would be yes. But seeing as you asked me to come here in an emergency—which mind you, I left an extremely hot girl alone in my hotel room, who didn't even get to make out with—so no Weiss I did not bring my silver knives. Or bullets. Or any weapons I can use to kill be a big bad wolf." Yang replies with the watchful eyes and ears of many werewolves and a very soon-to-be upset Weiss Schnee. _Not on me, in the car_. Yang passes the napkin over to Weiss. Werewolves had great hearing.

She makes a show of interest and looks around lightly buzzing diner. The human wait staff didn't notice the thickening air between the two women and a gang of werewolves in long pig's clothing. Just about the same time, a large group of bikers came rolling in. This not-so-packed diner was suddenly suffocating.

"But I do know one thing about _fur-balls_ is," Yang starts again, drinking her mug of Joe. "They respect sanctuaries as a neutral ground," in which Yang slides the desert menu over to Weiss. She looks down at the flimsy piece of laminated paper in confusion. Eventually it hit Weiss. The restaurant's name was _Haven's Diner_. "So ice queen, you _feline_ dessert?" Yang smirks.

In response, Weiss shook her head in disgust at both the horrifically terrible pun and nickname, but answered "I'll have a slice of lemon meringue pie."

They sat and ate dessert in silence for the next twenty or so minutes. Heavy watchful eyes on them. Yang and Weiss knew there was approximately ten werewolves inside the diner, possibly more outside. They knew that once they leave the safety of the diner, they'd be targeted by the land hounds.

Although they had as long as it took Weiss to eat a slice of lemon meringue pie, they didn't discuss anything about how to get out. Yang just sat across from her with the blankest face ever and it was driving the werewolves as mad as it was driving Weiss Schnee. Especially when Yang stands up to get into the face of who Weiss assumes was the alpha wolf.

 _What on earth are you thinking Xiao Long?_ Weiss thought. She realized the plan, a crazy plan even for her, when Yang grabbed the alpha's shirt collar, "Jarret, how you do this to me. We have a family, what about Sherry and Cody! What will they think when they find out their father cheated on their mother with his secretary!?" Yang barks at the man.

The civilians, all twenty-four of them Weiss counted, glanced Yang's way as she roughed up the alpha wolf, whom they assumed was some human man in his thirties. Weiss made note of their worried faces for the young blonde woman in comparison to some who looked disgusted at the alpha Yang was provoking.

Yang pretended to sound angry with traces of sadness. "I forgave you the first three times. I forgave you when you touched little Sherry's friends," murmurs and looks of pure hate were directed at the alpha. "It's over you _mutt_ , don't follow me or I'll call the cops." Yang dropped with such conviction, even Weiss wanted to give her an award for her acting. Or at least an award for being reckless and suicidal.

The alpha stands up after Yang, "who the fuck do you think you are bitch—"

"Don't talk to her like that you disgusting child molester!" a large burly man interrupts, shoving himself between Yang and the alpha. He was accompanied by about a dozen of his fellow gang members. A biker gang Yang assumes.

It was a common thing for gangs to get into fights at diners. A group of human bikers argued with a group of lycans. But Yang doesn't need to mention the part about one of the gangs being scary monstrous beasts now does she?

The alpha tried to shove the biker man off of him, but it only started what Yang liked to call a head start to her great escape.

Yang grabs Weiss's hand and whispering into her ear it was their chance to go while they could. Or so she thought until she realized there were more upon closing the entrance door, it chiming on the way out.

"It's them!" Yang hears one of the lackeys shout from his position against a large white van. Gee, they were subtle about kidnapping Weiss.

"Get to the car!" Yang tells Weiss pushing her towards her Impala, "in the trunk, there's a revolver and bullets, load it with silver bullets." She passes Weiss the keys. Weiss runs off about as fast as an heiress could run in heels while Yang places herself between the werewolves and her.

Yang counts four dogs, ten in the diner who were probably going to catch up to her and Weiss soon after they deal with a dozen angry bikers. She wasn't worried about the bikers, the wolves respected territory, they weren't going to transform on neutral ground. So as long as the bikers kept the fight inside—they'll be okay.

The first werewolf to make contact with Yang shoves her into the closest car. _Luckily_ she took it well on impact, seeing as he missed her completely. She slacks him in the head with a broken car side-mirror, she then splashed the remainder of her coffee into his eyes, rendering him in pain for the next couple of seconds. Giving her time to deal with the next wolf.

He swings his fist at her. She ducks, using his momentum against him and pushing him into the coffee burned wolf. For good measure she kicks his back and pushes them into the ground with just enough time to react to the third and fourth wolves.

Another one jumped on her back, wrapping her arm around Yang's shoulder while the fourth made his way over with a metal pipe in hand. There was no way she could overpower a werewolf, she had to act quick before they started getting their crap together.

The fourth werewolf in human form slung a metal rod at Yang's head, which she ducked her head beneath. Instead the pipe met with the wolf's face on Yang's back, giving Yang a chance to sling her off. Yang kicks her right leg back into the woman's shin, knocking her off balance and giving Yang leverage to swing her into the wolf with the pipe.

Just as Yang was recovering from those two, the earlier wolves came rushing at her. She didn't have a game plan really. There was no way Yang could fight four werewolves, let alone one. No human could overpower a werewolf of any kind. But her goal wasn't to overpower them. She just needed to buy time until Weiss could pass her the revolver.

As another wolf charged at her, Yang prepared to embrace the nastiest tackle she'll ever be given since encountering that one demon who used a bodybuilder as a vessel.

She waited for impact, but never felt it. Her senses zoned in to realize Weiss shot the charging wolf.

"You can aim?!" Yang asks incredulous. She wasn't trying to insult her friend. It's just Weiss Schnee never shot a gun before, not that Yang knows of. "Wait, you could've shot me!"

Weiss makes an annoyed expression, when does she not…

"That's highly, highly unlikely! You have the rabbit's foot you dolt—the bullet wouldn't even hit you if you tried to shoot yourself!" Weiss shouted as she tried to shoot another wolf, but missed. Yang jumped atop a car and made her way towards Weiss.

"Pass me the gun and start the car— _YOU DOLT_!" Yang mocks once more that day.

Weiss obeys. Her throw was a little off, but the gun finds its way to Yang's hands quick enough for Weiss to start the car. She looked at the controls only to realize the car was stick shift. "Yang I can't drive stick," she told her friend as Yang slung herself into the passenger seat guns blazing having shot the closest werewolf in the head.

The silver bullets were in complete effect. Using silver bullets against werewolves was hunting basics 101. Silver and incapacitation was the main ways to kill a werewolf. A couple other weapons could render their deaths, but those weapons tend to be weapons of the highest entities.

The entire time Yang had a hunter's gun named _the Colt_ in her side pocket in the case she had to use it. The Colt could kill anything. But creating the bullets for it was costly and extremely difficult. She only had eight bullets, six in the chamber. It was a gift from her mother before she left five years ago.

"Can you do anything useful?!"

"Don't yell at me! Give me the gun I'll shoot, you drive." Weiss suggests as Yang crawls over her and swaps spots with her.

"Like hell I'd do that—silver bullets are expensive, you're just gonna miss anyways." Yang pushes the car into reverse.

Weiss utters something about ten and two and having two hands on the wheel, but most of it is useless jargon in Yang's head. Not listening to her partner, Weiss grabs the gun from Yang's hands.

"Weiss—"

Yang is cut off by Weiss shooting like she's from the goddamn West. The ice queen was practically standing in Yang's 1967 Impala. Not to mention they were actually in the West…

Maybe it was Yang's horrific driving in addition to the bumpy roads, but Weiss missed all of her targets. Hitting one of the wolves' in the foot at best. Effectively wasting all remaining bullets. Not to mention the additional ten werewolves walking out of the diner. Which made a grand total of thirteen werewolves in their human forms.

"You idiot you wasted all of the bullets and now there's even more of them!" Yang shouts over the windy breeze that came with her car set in convertible mode. "How do you even miss at this range—what do you not learn how to shoot at wizardry school or some shit!?"

Weiss glares at Yang and points at the scene behind them. Yang glances in her rear mirror to find a destruction of electrical lines along with their tree post counterparts falling along the road. It was like someone yelled timber and all the utility poles decided to create multiple road blocks between the wolves and them.

Yang for the first time that day looked genuinely surprised. "How'd you manage that?"

To that, her friend sat back down, opening her glove compartment to find an extra pair of shades to block the morning sun. She then opened her hand to prove a point.

Yang laughed hard. One reason was because Weiss was just as crazy as her, the second reason was Weiss Schnee would need all the luck in the world to pull off this crap. She snuck off the rabbit's foot from around Yang's neck without her noticing. Dangling it as proof.

"Lucky shot."

"Weiss Schnee did you just—"

"Shut it Xiao Long."

* * *

 **A/N: Sooo this is just a prologue to set the background a little. The supernatural world is a lot to take in so I tried to make it a little more understandable before we jump into the first chapter. Chapters will usually range from 5k-8k in words. This one was pretty short, sorry about that. Please R/R because like I said, I'm not confident if anyone wants to even read this AU. Thanks :)**


	2. Wendigo

**A/N: So I asked that if you haven't seen the show, please try not to look up the information on the monster they're hunting—keep you on your toes lol. Also if you have, I doubt you'll remember what creature I'm referencing xD if you do, dangg nice. It's a big AU so please ask questions!**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Wendigo**

 **...**

 **BLAKE BELLADONNA**

If Blake could go back in time five months, she'd tell herself to not ask the beautiful blonde from class on a date and to decline her when she asks for a second date. Because then she wouldn't be handcuffed against the passenger seat in the blonde's vehicle and wondering in God's name where the hell she was.

 _ **9 hours ago**_ **…**

 _It's Friday night and Blake's finals were over. They weren't all too difficult. She was quite the scholar, but she didn't appreciate her civil law's oral presentation. It was a weird thing for her to go to law school. She absolutely hated public speaking and social situations. She probably wouldn't make the best lawyer but you don't have to be great at public speaking to demonstrate your legal knowledge. She also wasn't used to living like a normal person._

 _Her life as a huntress was over though. This normal is her normal now._

 _Her second year at Beacon Law already and she wasn't sure what to specialize in yet. She was leaning towards Criminal Law or Civil law. Imagine having a socially awkward civil activist as a lawyer. Which she was trying to explain to the beautiful blonde woman she had the honor of dating on and off for the past few months._

 _They were dressed casually, sitting on bar stools at the blonde's city apartment. Yang, her date, invited her over for fish tacos and a horror film. The last time she was invited over to Yang's hotel room, the blonde was missing without a call or text. About two days later she apologized for leaving so abrupt. Blake didn't mind too much, they weren't exactly dating—yet. She met Yang in her common law course earlier this semester. The connection was almost instant._

 _Blake had come in a minute or two after the class had started and there were no seats left. Except the one next to the violet-eyed girl. She remembers stuttering around the girl whenever they had to do small group discussions. Eventually five months later, some flirting from Yang's side and pining from Blake's side, they sat laughing over a plate of Yang's incredible fish tacos._

" _Hiring a socially awkward lawyer is like hiring a dentist with cavities," Yang's smile throws Blake off every time. It's a nice take though._

 _She bites into a grin and shrugs, "same could be said, Ms. Legally Blonde."_

 _They laugh and trade a story or two about court cases they hated working on, eventually they led into a conversation about childhood superheroes._

" _Can I get you another glass?" Yang asks politely, glancing at Blake's emptied old-fashioned on rocks._

 _Blake nods and hands her the glass cup. She takes the chance to soak in the blonde's city apartment. It had quite the view. Glass walls on one end, white marble tops, a fully stocked kitchen. This girl either came from money or she was a secret drug-dealer. The place must've costed at least two grand a month with its prime location and views. She recalled being in Yang's hotel suite alone. It was just as nice._

 _When Yang sits down beside her again with Blake's second glass, Blake takes it for another sip. She wanted the liquid confidence to finally kiss the girl tonight. She was hoping they could finally address their sexual tension and stop the pining. They had practically been pining over each other since they met five months ago. Blake was tired of dumb interruptions and unlucky timing. Tonight was the night Blake Belladonna got laid to the hot funny blonde from her morning Common Law course._

 _Well, it would've been if she didn't feel so queasy. Maybe it was from the street salad she had in the morning, but she felt her head was spinning for what felt like moments too long to stop. She placed her drink down after finishing it in hopes it'd clear her queasiness. Quite the opposite really._

 _Her drink was drugged._

 _Blake tried to stand up but her body disagreed and gravity would've had its way with her it if wasn't for the blonde who caught her. The last thing she heard before she passed out was Yang's apology._

" _Sorry Blake. I think we can both agree you're going to be a better huntress than a lawyer though."_

* * *

 _ **Currently…**_

Blake had a massive headache. Mostly due to a mixture of drinking and being drugged. She jogs her memory and tries to remember what happened after she passed out, but nothing comes up. She remembers Yang's words but struggles to find meaning in them. No one knew about her past except her parents.

Around her is emptiness, just pitch dark fields of trees and a one-way road. The car was off and it was parked on the side of the road when Blake woke up. The driver was nowhere to be found. When she tried to step out, Blake realized her feet and hands were handcuffed to the passenger seat.

She didn't think her life would end this way. She thinks back to Yang and who Yang really was. What was a lie and what was the truth. The bubbly nature of the blonde, it was a ploy for whatever crap Blake was stuck in. It leaves a bad taste in her mouth that she actually fell for the blonde's charms. She felt like crap.

For once in her not-so-normal life, Blake had let herself get close to another person—only to have it bite her in the ass later and get kidnapped by said person. The worse part was she finds out the girl only wanted her around because she used to be a huntress.

She recollects. Obviously she knew about Blake's past as a hunter. The only thing is why she kidnapped Blake. If Yang, if that was even her name, was also a hunter—why the hell would a hunter kidnap an ex-hunter.

Blake thought she hid her tracks so well. She didn't want to be a part of this world anymore. Not after an incident a couple years ago nearly killed her entire family when she wasn't careful. It was two years ago when she left the hunting game completely.

Her father used to be a hunter, but he stopped when he married her mother. After giving up the hunter's lifestyle, they settled down on a small island called Menagerie to live a quiet life. Eventually one day, Blake's father taught her to protect herself from the supernatural. She took well to learning the trade. She loved it even. However one night Blake endangered her family due to her poor judgment.

A demon had possessed her friend from high school. She came over to spend spring break at Blake's parents' home. Back in Menagerie, the Belladonnas were considered as high political figures—royalty almost. It didn't help that the demon trying to kill her parents was an old enemy of her's. She had clocked away many of his kind and he wanted the Belladonnas dead. The incentive wasn't vengeance—demons don't care about honoring or respecting the deaths of the fallen—it was a power shift. Someone wanted the Belladonnas out and that person went to great lengths to do it.

Luckily Blake was an insomniac. If she hadn't been awake that night, she probably would've lost more than an old friend. It was then when she realized she couldn't endanger her family's lives. She had to choose between family and hunting. Blake chose her family.

"Morning gorgeous!" A chirper voice pulls Blake out of her thoughts, she looks over to the driver's seat after hearing the door close.

Yang was dressed in neutral-dark clothing and a brown baseball cap. She had a brown leather jacket on that fitted her quite well and Blake wanted to tear it off of her—if it weren't for the fact that Yang kidnapped her.

"Sleep alright?" she smiled, turning the car on. Blake mentally chastised herself for being attracted to her kidnapper's smile.

She was completely dumbfounded. Was Yang going to pretend that she didn't drug her, kidnap her, and handcuff her against her will?

"I can explain," Yang senses her thoughts, her eyes on the empty road. It was morning, but the sun wasn't awake yet. "I know who you are Blake. You used to be a huntress, almost lost everything to a demon that possessed your friend."

Blake's anger riles up in her chest. She couldn't even say she knew Yang for five months, Yang probably wasn't her name. She hated the fact that a complete stranger knew about a life she gave up. She hated how she didn't know what to say because Blake didn't want to be associated with the supernatural world anymore. She just wanted to be a socially awkward lawyer who makes a decent salary at her 9-to-5 job from Mondays to Fridays.

"I'm sorry." Yang offers. Blake wasn't sure what she was apologizing for. For kidnapping her? For drugging her? For pulling her back into the world where she almost lost everything that was worth anything to her? "About your friend," Yang completes her apology, answering Blake's inner thoughts. "I've been there. The job comes with lost."

Blake shifted in her seat, the handcuffs weren't too tight, maybe she could sneak out of them. But she'd end up in the middle of nowhere and she wouldn't find out what Yang meant by that. "Who are you," Blake demanded before she demands an explanation for anything else.

Yang continues to drive at speed limit down the empty interstate road. Blake made note they were at least 50 miles from the closest thing to civilization. Somewhere in West Kansas. She almost missed the pollution of the big apple.

Yang clears her throat with a gulp of water, she offers the bottle to Blake, but Blake knows better than to take drinks from her stranger. Well not really since her stupidity got her in this position right now. Semantics.

"I did just drink out of it—just take it, you're probably thirsty from being out for so long," Yang tosses the bottle into her lap.

Blake doesn't want to give in, she's always been naturally stubborn. So she leaves it in her lap, contemplating if she should or not.

Yang starts her explanation with a name and a background. "Yang Xiao Long, kickass awesome huntress of creepy mean demons and bloodsucking vampires!" Blake notes the girl's chirpy nature was definitely not much different from the one she got to know over the past five months, "I'm 24, I was based in New York for recovery after I got injured during a hunt. It was minor but the physical therapist recommended I took a couple months off. So I spent the five months getting to know you, Blake Belladonna."

She wasn't sure if she should believe the girl, but Blake figured she was telling truth since she didn't kill Blake yet and that she claimed to be a huntress. Hunters were extremely uncommon. Finding other hunters was harder than finding gay bars in West Texas. Nonexistent, even if you had connections.

"Long story short, our parents used to be friends. Someone told me to pull your head out of your ass because you're a huntress whether you like it or not. Get you back into the game. Now the real reason you're here is—do you believe in fate?" Yang cuts herself off. In the world they live in where demons and ghosts were real, witches and sea monsters haunted the countryside, Blake wanted to ask if that was a rhetorical question.

Fate was a totally different story. Even the huntress in her wanted to say fate doesn't exist. Vampires and werewolves are explainable. Destiny, prophecy and fate though? That's a bit of a long shot even for Blake. So she shakes her head, but realizes Yang isn't looking at her. "I believe in what I do has a consequential result in what I'm going to do," Blake gives in. "Like when you un-cuff me and I punch you."

Yang laughs and it makes Blake feel stupid butterflies she shouldn't be feeling in this situation. "Highly unlikely."

"What? You un-cuffing me?"

"No. You punching me."

Blake tries not to smile and she does well. "Don't knock it 'til you try it."

Blake allows a small smile and she sees Yang's face lift up into a warm grin. "Getting smacked by a hot chick who has it out for me? Hard pass." Yang laughs and Blake seriously hates the way her chest thinks Yang's laughter is magical or some equally gay crap.

A brief moment of silence passes over them. Blake ignores her thoughts of vengeance and takes a leap. A leap she'll thank herself for taking later.

"Alright. Prove it."

She leans against the car door and crosses her legs, waiting for Yang's response. "Prove what?"

"You're a huntress. Prove that to me and I'll help you with whatever you need and then you can take me back to Beacon and we'll never see each other again," Blake puts frankly.

Yang takes a second away from the road and looks at Blake. Lilacs meet golds and they're wondering. Blake liked that Yang couldn't read her at this moment. She liked how she finally felt a step ahead of Yang for once in this car ride.

"Werewolves, how do you kill them," Blake starts.

Yang's mouth pulls up into a smile and realizes where this is going. "Silver to the vitals, or good 'ol incapacitation—my personal favorite if you wondering," Yang winks.

"Banshees?"

"Pure gold, trapping spells, or banishing spells. I prefer the gold, more expensive, but at least they can't come back that way," Yang shrugs.

"Witches."

"Depends on the witch, generally iron though," Yang answers. "What is this a chemistry quiz? I actually failed chemistry in high school."

Blake laughs. Chemistry was a key component to being a hunter, you had to know your metals and your elements if you're going to deal with the supernatural.

Yang eyes her laugh. "We good?"

Blake catches herself and clears her throat, deciding it was alright to drink the water bottle her not-so-bad kidnapper gave her. "I still wanna punch you."

"Eh, I'll take one for the team."

* * *

Yang drove for another hour before stopping at a small town diner in the middle of nowhere, Kansas. They fell into a comfortable silence for the past hour. Blake learnt that Yang had been hunting for as long as she could walk. The girl was born into it just like Blake was.

Her family was a little more extreme than Blake's though. Yang mentions her mentor a couple of times and Blake wants to ask who that was, but she doesn't push for it since Yang didn't seem to want to tell her. She mentions a hunt she wanted Blake to help her solve since it was on the way to where they needed to be. Which Yang hadn't mentioned the real reason why she actually needed Blake.

Now they sat across from each other in a lightly busy diner in West Kansas.

Yang orders a stack of pancakes and Blake settles for apple pie for breakfast. "How do you like your coffee?" Yang asks, pouring herself a cup of Joe.

Blake raises her eyebrow in a teasing manner, "gee, someone wasn't paying attention on the first date. I'll have a cup of tea."

Blake likes the way Yang's face flushed in embarrassment. "Something else caught my attention," Yang replies smoothly eyeing Blake. It makes Blake wonder if the flirting she did during the sum months was a lie or the real deal. The real blush on Blake's cheeks wanted an explanation but she ignores it and doesn't make eye contact in fear Yang would read through her.

"What's the case," Blake asks. She watches the entrance like it's the most interesting thing in the diner.

"Same old stuff, different day."

A couple of more customers come in as the time passed. The diner was quite lively with truckers and families on weekend camping trips.

"Then why do you need me?" Blake asks. It wasn't like Blake had any specialties as a huntress, she was an average huntress. She knew her cautions, she knew her limits, she knew how much she could handle and what not to chase after. But one slip almost costed her, her family. The slip up costed her a good friend.

Yang sips her black cup of Joe and it unnerves Blake. Like the girl wasn't taking this seriously. Like Yang was running on her own time. Blake had a life. She was a law student at a prestigious school in New York. She was going to graduate in a year. She was going to work at a law firm 9-to-5, Mondays to Fridays for the rest of her life. Get married and have kids. She's normal damn-it.

"Well I gotta see how good you are—I don't care what that seer said about you, you're gonna have to prove yourself before you can join us," Yang's first serious sentence of the meal comes out and Blake wants to slack her across the face.

Blake had no reason to prove herself to Yang. Not as a huntress not as a person. She didn't even want to be in this situation. And what team is this she even talking about.

As if Yang could sense Blake's thoughts once more, she continues, "a seer told me I was going to get injured, stay out of the game for some time and come back with a new ally. That's where you come in Blake. She told me your destiny is tied with mine, with ours'," Yang specifies. She pulls out a couple pieces of wrinkled paper from her jacket. She makes a note that they're most likely photographs from the material of the paper. Yang slides them over to Blake.

The picture is weathered at the edges and the photos are folded in squares. Blake opens the first one to find two smiling girls. The photo itself is warming. A young girl, who Blake assumed was Yang from the lilac eyes and blonde hair, was giving a younger girl with dark hair and red tips a piggyback ride. Yang was maybe no older than thirteen in the photo. The other girl was maybe eight or nine. Blake ignores the rising thoughts about how cute Yang was as a kid and focuses on the image.

"That's Ruby. She's my younger sister. It's been five years since I last saw her—long story short, she thinks I'm dead." Yang puts simply. She continues to munch on her pancakes like it's no big deal.

But Blake can feel the emotion Yang was trying to hide with syrup and pressed pancakes. She doesn't poke at it in respect to her past. "She's 20 now, she goes to med school at John Hopkins. She's a genius, which is a wonder how we're related," Yang tries to lighten the mood. Blake gives her a comforting grin to reassure the blonde. She doesn't know why but Yang's face without smile makes her worry. "She's special. Literally gifted if you will," Yang opens the second photo.

It's a photo of Ruby, much older now, maybe fourteen in this photo. Blake notices her silver eyes. She tries to remember what that entails but couldn't place a finger on it. "I can't explain it all now, but it's important we keep her safe and I have to make sure you're good enough to help us protect my little sister," Yang smiles with a certain proudness in her words.

"Us?"

Blake opens the third photograph and it's Yang and a girl with snow-white hair. They're much older now, a recent picture if Blake had to guess. Maybe a couple months ago, at most a year. Yang has her arm slung around the blue eyed blue who didn't seem too happy about the contact if her glare was anything to go off of. They were sitting on the back of Yang's car trunk, both dirtied and bleeding from some small cuts. Most likely from a hunt. Though the glaring girl didn't seem like a huntress, Blake would peg her as a princess with that form. "Who's this?" Blake asks.

Yang looks over and grins. "That's Weiss but you can call her ice queen," Yang practically laughing to herself as she looked at the photo fondly. It kind of made Blake jealous. "She's a sorceress, not much the hunter that one."

Blake nodded, eyeing the girl a little more. Hunters were extremely uncommon and rare, but human sorceresses were practically non-existent. She only knew a handful of hunters, most were ex-hunters. Her parents, herself, and a family friend from Toronto who used to visit the Belladonnas when Blake was younger.

"Where is she?" she asks with the clink of her tea cup meeting the small plate it bedded on.

It was a little less than an hour from when they first sat down, but the diner was packed. A line forming from the entrance. Blake wondered the charm of diners and dirt coffee, but truckers seemed to like it. So did Yang. "She's picking up Ruby. We'll meet up with them after you catch a cannibal for me." She slides a newspaper to Blake. "How rusty are you anyways?"

Blake opens the piece of paper and it has several missing persons attached. Seven missing victims as of last week. The recent victim was a boy named Tommy Brice, he was 15-years old.

Blake mutters something along the lines that hunting is like riding a bike, you never forget it. It seems to satisfy Yang. She calls for the check and the two of them walk back to Yang's car.

It's a sleek black Chevy Impala, Blake doesn't know cars but it's a classic. Yang jumps into the driver's seat, Blake uses the door and chides Yang's barbaric manner. In return she gets that annoying cocky smirk of her's. Stupid sexy smirk. Stupid sexy person-abducting-blonde.

In the car Blake goes over the history of the case. Seven people had gone missing in a small town over the course of less than two months. An average of about a person a week. The victims ranged from all ages. Old or young, the creature was definitely just hunting at whatever it could get its hands on. Once a week was all it needed Blake assumes.

She notes that the full moon was coming up at the end of the month. Shit like that was important when they're talking about supernatural beings. These creatures tend to be as superstitious as they come. They have patterns and behaviors that they follow. They do what they do because it's what they either: only know to do or need to do to survive. Like eating three meals a day, although Blake only ate two. Ain't nobody got time for three.

"What's the verdict your honor?" Yang smiles.

There's a teasing nature in her voice and Blake was starting to realize two things about the girl that was true from the past semester. One, Yang likes to flirt. She'd flirt with a rock if it could buy her dinner. The sad part is, it'd probably work. The girl was very charming and Blake had to give her that. She did charm her way into Blake's life. That reminds Blake to mentally make a note to ask if Yang actually knew anything about law school.

Two, the girl had way too much fun teasing her. She hated the way Yang could practically read her mind and Blake couldn't ever tell what she was thinking in return. Maybe she's a witch.

"That you're a witch."

Blake watches her face, unfazed but smiling. She doesn't think of how her joke could backfire, but she probably set herself up for this one way or another. "Got you under my spell don't I?"

She could see Yang mentally high-fiving herself. But Blake's stubborn and doesn't give Yang the satisfaction of toying with her. "I think it's a Wendigo," she goes back to the topic.

Blake shuffles through the papers regarding the incidents. The missing persons all followed a pattern. Taken in the night, alone, within an twelve mile radius of one-another, on the same day of every week for the past two months. Today was Saturday, every person was taken on a Saturday.

"How so," Yang pushes for a definitive answer. She wanted to make sure Blake knew her stuff.

Blake pulls up the first three victims. "The first three victims were found dead about ten to eighteen miles apart. Two things we know from that. One, it's storing food in an octagon," Blake draws a sketch to demonstrate the shape, "at every corner it'll place the remains of the body to form the shape. Once the shape is formed, it'll go back into hiding after feasting. Which leads to point two."

She pulls up a map and crudely draws an octagon. "This is an estimation of the kills it made 23 years ago," she passes it over to Yang who was driving, but manages to multitask. "Eight people died 23 years ago in the span of two months. Once a Wendigo feasts; it hibernates for exactly 23 years. Coming out to feast again after hibernation. Since the police only found three bodies, it's likely there are survivors since Wendigos like to store live food."

The blonde eyes the octagon Blake drew. There's a brief moment of silence, but it passes with ease when Yang pulls over the car into an off track trail into the forest. It's not long until she parks it.

She hadn't murmured a word since Blake showed her the map with her detailed explanation. It didn't make Blake feel uneasy that Yang was judging her knowledge, she felt uneasy that the blonde wasn't cracking jokes with her.

Blake hears the trunk of the car close and Yang makes her way back into the car. In her hand is a small backpack. She can't see the content, but Blake guesses it's for hunting. "Not bad Belladonna. Hope you can back yourself up," Yang tosses the bag into her lap. "I'll be in the car when you're done."

Blake opens the backpack to find several things for a short trip. A short barrel shotgun, eight rounds she counts. Holy water and a crucifix. A rather large hand knife. And lastly there's drinking water and granola bars. The granola bars remind her of hunting missions with her father when she was a teenager.

Yang slings her feet onto the dash and lays back into her head rest. Prepared to pass out it appears. Yang would've passed out on the spot if Blake wasn't holding the shotgun to her head.

The shotgun is a double barrel and Blake loaded two shells into it. It clicks smoothly and Blake points it against Yang's head. In return, the blonde opens her eyes, complacent on Blake. She didn't see traces of fear or aggression. Just a blank expression. Like the one where you look at someone who asked you a rhetorical question but meant it.

She closes her eyes again and leans into her seat, her arms crossed.

"What's to stop me from shooting you and taking the car," Blake puts their situation into perspective.

It bothered her how calm the girl was, but Blake did have the upper hand.

Still it didn't stop Yang from smirking like she knew the answers to the universe.

"'Cuz Blake, you're not gonna shoot your _soulmate_."

 _Soulmate_. The word was foreign to Blake. She had a hard time barely believing that magic was real even after having several witch kills under her belt. She's been inside a den of leprechauns—a den of them. The magical beings tend to run alone but a pack of them was unheard of. Not as unheard of a soulmates.

Telling a myth to a huntress is like telling a child there's a new candy shop on the corner. They'll want to learn everything they can about it, how to track it, how to hunt it, does it pose a threat. Yang had to be pulling her leg on this one. Soulmates is a myth. So is bigfoot and Blake's slayed a lot of things—none of them were bigfoot.

Before Blake could badger her for answers, Yang passed out. The slowing of her breaths and the way her face relaxed was proof. Blake pulled back the gun and holstered it. Not sure why she was holding her breath, but Blake felt more relaxed when she let it out. She wasn't going to shoot the girl, Blake could never kill another human. Monsters and demons were a different story. In which, she should really be hunting one right now.

* * *

She had approximately six to seven hours before daylight runs out. She hiked a couple miles from where Yang parked and passed out. There was a pattern of withered trees every other 100 meters. It was a sign of a Wendigo tracing the circle of life—aka the octagon.

Blake marks the map for feasible sites the Wendigo would use.

A Wendigo isn't difficult to kill. Super strong and fast yes, but it used to be human like Blake. The Wendigo is a person who relied on cannibalism as the prime source of their diet. Overtime the human will need to feed more and more on others to stay alive, eventually transitioning from human to a Wendigo upon a total solar eclipse. Once it transitions, the Wendigo only needs to feed every 23 years. It does the ritual of feeding and creating the octagon shape with remains. The octagon keeps it safe for those 23 years of hibernation.

It hibernates upon completing the eighth corner—which Blake assumes was today since it had been a week since someone last went missing. She couldn't save the ones found dead and it was one of the gears that drove Blake to complete the hunt.

As she was setting down a small campsite, she hears piercing screams weather from inside the woods. She takes off in a sprint towards the scream of terror. It's human for sure.

There's a small cabin at the bottom of a smaller hill. She slides down the hill with ease and breaks the front door down. _Still got it Belladonna, still got it_. Sure, she's out of breath, but it's still not every day an average person sprints uphill only to slide down it as nimble as Blake did—and break a stubborn wooden door down.

Inside the cabin was just empty furniture. It looked like no one had occupied the place in years. Dust and webs all over the wooden chairs and counter tops.

"Hands up 'lil lady," a rough voice calls from behind Blake.

She doesn't act rash, she heard his weapon click similar to the way a Glock pistol does. His voice tells her he's nearby, he won't miss at that range. Her hands go up and she turns to find an elder man, mid 60's.

"Care to explain why you're breaking down my cabin door?"

He has a Kansas accent, a native here.

She gives the truth. "I heard a scream—multiple ones actually."

He eyes her for a moment. Looking for traces of lying in Blake's expression. She's not sure what made him put his weapon away, but she's happy he did because Blake's double barrel was not her go-to weapon in a situation like this.

"That's just them coyotes, you should head on out soon 'lil lady. Temperatures will drop to the single digits soon." The old man walked away, closing the shaky door of his small cabin on Blake's backside. She doesn't make much of the interaction other than wondering if there were really coyotes in West Kansas.

She does find it odd that he told her the weather forecast. It was strange, they were in Kansas at the beginning of December. Sure it can get cold, but anything below 20 degrees is uncommon in this area this time of the year. Blake keeps his words at the back of her mind on the way back to camp.

Back at her makeshift campsite, which took Blake longer to get back to than it took for her to run from.

The first sign of trouble hits Blake. Her things are gone. Her backpack with the extra ammo, holy water, and stupid granola bar that literally wasn't going to keep her alive; it was all gone. Even the makeshift trap she made was missing. She looked for signs of fresh tracks but whoever did this was either a ghost or a floating wizard because Blake couldn't find any tracks other than her own.

She'd had to make do with what she had on her body. A shotgun, two shells and a knife. The clothes on her back weren't going to keep her warm enough if this mission went on pass four hours.

Blake wandered around. She found a blood trail, it wasn't as fresh as she would've liked but it was worth following. It might lead her to the Wendigo's food storage aka human jail. She recalls three of the seven people were found dead, Blake assumes she's looking for four to five people. Depending on if the Wendigo hunted its last victim yet.

"HELP!"

Blake's attention shoots up from the blood trail and flashes towards the shout for help. She notices a tunnel entrance, similar to one for an underground railroad. She was positive she heard the screams earlier—which were not coyotes, mind you creepy old man—they were people.

Their shouts for help continued and it was working. Blake was wrong about the tunnel, it was an abandoned underground mine. It was as dusty and webbed as the old man's cabin. The crackling rocks threatening to fall didn't help set Blake at ease. If anything it made her want to turn around and jet.

She really wishes she had a flashlight right now, but she'll just rely on her decent night vision for now. It was still daytime outside. Luckily, small cracks in the mine gave way for loose rays of light inside the coal mine. It made for getting around a little easier.

The cries for help got louder and louder as Blake cruised the corridors of the coal mine.

"Help us, somebody!" a female voice called.

Another voice, male this time, shouted at what Blake assumed was the Wendigo. "He's coming! Run Lisa!"

Blake rounds the corner to find two humans bumping into her. She catches herself and stands her ground, but the impact knocks over a kid. He's about 15 Blake notices. The girl screams upon seeing Blake, but realizes she's just a normal person.

"W-w-who are you?!" the kid scrambles up to his feet.

She grabs his hand and pulls him up. "Where is he?" Blake asks, referring to the Wendigo. Her eyes search the dark tunnels.

She played out her cards. Two shotgun shells, a Wendigo and two kids. The Wendigo was going to take more than a couple shotgun shells to put down—at best Blake could only hope to make a run for it. She could use the shotgun to slow it down, injure it perhaps.

"He was right behind us a second ago, is that a gun!?" the girl exclaims.

Blake hated children. She hated dealing with them. But she hated the idea of monsters eating children more than her dislike for annoying kids.

A low growl draws her attention to the right tunnel, she pushes them behind her. "Get back," she tells them. The double barrel in her hands, she spots a dark stalking figure.

She's never seen a Wendigo in person but it wasn't exactly what she imagined. She thought maybe it'd be a like a ghost mixed with werewolf looking thing, but it was human-like. Maybe seven to eight feet tall and as hollow as a pumpkin during Halloween. Its skin was pitch black, it was skinny and frail looking, but that was deceptive. She knew the Wendigo was fast and as strong as a vampire. She knew it used to be human therefore it had an overgrown untamed beard. You could see the skeletal of it sticking out from the dusted skin. The wrinkly stalker could use some moisturizer.

The first shot Blake fires is directed at the chest. Blake wanted to deal as much damage as possible to the Wendigo. She knew she didn't have a good chance at killing him but if he's injured he'll be more likely to subject himself to an early hibernation.

Blake pushes the kids the other direction. "Go, there's exits all around we just have to find one," she tells them as she hurries behind them. They run as fast as they could over rubble and broken rail tracks.

The Wendigo's howl signals it's not far from them and was catching up quick.

She had to think in terms of survival. There were times when the hunter became the hunted and this was one of those. Blake just needed to get out with the kids. So she used her last shot on a wooden barrier that held up fallen rubble from an inner coal mine. She caught one last glimpse of the Wendigo as rocks and coal fell between them—effectively cutting the beast off.

They stop to catch their breaths, also to figure out where the exit was. The tunnel was still dark with small spots of leaked sunlight.

"C'mon," Blake leads the group now.

The kids weren't as scared as when Blake first saw them. They were still shaking but at least they weren't wetting themselves.

"Who are you?" the girl asks Blake.

She remembers back in the day whenever a civilian asked Blake for her name—her father taught her to give a fake alias. They couldn't afford catching the attention of the human society. As a kid she thought it was stupid. All the work of a superhero, none of the rewards.

"No one," she settles for a lack of an alias. "I recognize you two though, Lisa McBell and Tommy Brice. You two went missing not long ago."

They nod, telling Blake about how they both were out and about around night time. They hadn't suspected the Wendigo, they just woke up at this place. The last memory they had was falling asleep near where the Wendigo caught them.

Blake sees pouring sunrays from a left tunnel ahead. That much sunlight most likely signified an entrance/exit. Her worries fell and she thought all would end well soon. She thought wrong.

The Wendigo's cry was heard throughout the tunnels. Blake realize he was going to use the tunnel system to his advantage—to catch them before they made it out. Sure they were closer to the exit, but even if they got out, they'd have to deal with him outside.

There wasn't much time to think when Lisa pointed out his stalking figure at the end of the hall.

 _Fuck_.

She pulls the kids behind her, wielding the knife Yang gave her. There's scripture on the knife and Blake didn't make much of it before, but she realizes the scripture was an enhancement.

The Wendigo growls, its form completely visible to them now. He was yards away from them.

"Tell me you have a plan!" Lisa shouts as the beast walks closer and closer with each stride.

Blake ignored her and pushed them further behind her. She used Yang's knife to draw on a pentagram on the ground. A pentagram is a symbol of protection. Along with some other trapping symbols. Blake writes them in as quickly as she could recall them. It had been a while and Blake couldn't recall them perfectly at first. She could only hope she got it right.

Right as the Wendigo is a stride away from her, she slits her hand with the knife and her blood splashes inside the pentagram.

The Wendigo rushed at her but was stopped immediately by Blake's circle. It was a neat trick her father taught her when she was running from a demon. It only worked if you used a demon-killing blade to cut yourself. The crudely drawn circle glowed white, effectively trapping the Wendigo in it. His howls and moans blew Blake back a few steps, but he couldn't reach her.

She smirks regardless of how scary the Wendigo was up close.

One point for Blake Belladonna, zero for Wendigo.

The only problem was that he was blocking their exit. They could managing finding another exit but that could take hours. Luckily for her, she had a new partner with a crappy taste in crappier one-liners.

"What was the cannibalist's favorite color?" a confident voice came from behind the beast.

Blake meets lilac eyes across the tunnel, a tugging smile on Yang's face pulls one on Blake's. Yang winks at her wii her signature cocky smirk and shot the Wendigo with a short flare gun. It was a unique choice of weapon, but Blake thinks it was a good choice nonetheless.

The ammo lodges itself into the Wendigo's chest and fuses from the inside, causing a small explosion within him. To add to that, Yang tosses handheld Molotov the size of Blake's finger. The fire it set off was more than enough to burn the Wendigo to death.

Blake never felt so happy to see Yang's arrogant smirking face. Maybe this partnership could work out—

"Wen-di-go!" the pun flies from the blonde's lips.

Forget partnership, Blake's leaving her the second she figures out how to get enough cash to get herself back to New York.

On the way out, there were police cars lined up to take the kids home. Yang informs her she got the other survivors out safely while Blake was distracting the Wendigo. Blake is annoyed she got the long end of the stick, but glad nonetheless they saved the day. They avoided questioning from the police officers and took the long way back to Yang's car.

The sun was setting and so was the temperature. Blake was long passed her limit, she was barely making her own body heat. She just wants a cup of hot tea and a warm bed.

Blake feels a sudden layer of warmth cover her backside. The scent smells like citrus and Blake wanted to breathe it again—again. Yang had slung her jacket over Blake's shoulders. It was warm from being worn by the blonde.

Blake looks at her, questioning eyes. Yang just shrugs, tugging on her scarf to hide her shy expression. "You looked cold," she rubs the back of her neck. It was endearing that Yang felt like she had to justify her actions. It brought a faint smile to Blake's lips.

"Thanks." Blake whispers.

She doesn't look directly at Blake but she heard her. "Sorry about drugging you, kidnapping you and forcing you to kill a man eater."

Blake wasn't expecting an apology. But she takes it. If they're going to work together, they should have a clean conscience.

"I'm over it. But I still wanna punch you."

* * *

 **A/N: Thoughts? Questions? Concerns? There's a lot to be answered since this AU is so big. Please let me know what you think :). Also sorry if there are any grammatical errors. I'm trash at writing lol this is kind of my project to get better at it haha! good vibes 3**


	3. Bugs

**A/N: Loooong chapter. hehe**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Bugs**

…

 **BLAKE BELLADONNA**

Blake rolls over.

She ignores the ringing telephone and tries to go back to sleep but the task was much harder than getting up to answer the hotel phone. Why did hotel phones even exist? Nobody liked being woken up at the ass crack of dawn for crappy continental breakfast.

She slams the phone back into the dial after hearing the concierge cheerfully wish her a good morning and announced breakfast was being served. The hotel clock read in bright red digits: 06:01 AM. She slides back into bed and pulls the sheets over her head.

"C'mon kitten, we gotta get going," a voice calls from the restroom.

Blake remembers the night before. Yang and her drove until they ended up in Kansas City to refuel when Blake had knocked out in the car. She didn't remember walking in the hotel so she assumes Yang carried her. She still struggled with insomnia, but when she knocked out—Blake was basically lights out for the next eight hours.

She peeks from the covers when Yang walks out of the restroom in practically nothing. The wake up call from the hotel staff was nothing compared to the glistening Greek goddess.

The girl was triggering all types of emotions in Blake. Her hair and skin were damp. It glistened against the soft hotel restroom light. She's sculpted Blake decides. The girl's muscles were toned. Her body had scars that spoke stories of another time that Blake wanted to trace her fingers around. Blake notices the pentagram tattoo that all hunters had was placed on the front side of Yang's left hip. Part of it was covered by her laced underwear.

The girl could pass for a Greek goddess and Blake would worship her.

"Blake your thirst is showing again," Yang's smirk could be heard.

Blake groans and throws her face into the soft hotel pillows. "Then put your clothes on!" she protests, not bothering to deny Yang's accusations. They're not accusations when she practically was thirsting this hard. In Blake's defense it's been ages since she last got laid. Plus they did spend a lot of time together at Beacon Law—flirting and what not.

She just wants to ignore it all and catch another hour of sleep at the least. The past few days traveling around Kansas was driving her up a wall. Beauty sleep is a thing.

And she almost falls back asleep but the rush of cold hotel air sends shivers straight through her.

"Wakey wakey eggs and Blakey!" Yang pulled the covers from Blake's body.

Blake debates what was worse. The name pun or the cold air.

"C'mon partner, we got some bugs to deal with," Yang tosses her a roll of newspaper before returning to the restroom to air out her hair.

Blake sighs and sits up, pulling a shirt over her cold body.

The paper talks about a mysterious death of a man named Julian Jacobs, a construction worker based in Oklahoma.

"Wait—Yang! Where are we?"

Yang doesn't answer her immediately but she hears her mutter something along the lines of a small town in Oklahoma.

The death was just inside the border of Oasis Plains, Oklahoma. The photo taken of the man showed bleeding from her eyes, noses, ears and mouth. It was graphic. Blake read more into the paper. According to the article, he had died three days ago. The newspaper wrote off the death as an illness gone untreated—CJD—they name it.

Blake doesn't see how the man could've died to CJD. He would've presented many symptoms months prior or years even. The paper mentions a sudden death without symptom-related causes. There weren't any brain scans that could've prove an aneurism, but the newspaper clarifies that aneurisms don't cause this much bleeding from all outlets of the body.

Blake was reading so intently into the article that she didn't notice the shift in weight on her bed. But she did recognize the citrus smell.

"Spot the outlier?" Yang rests her chin on Blake's left shoulder.

Blake yanks away like she was burned. "Stop that."

Yang smirked. At least she was dressed this time.

"The symptoms don't add up. The coroner mentions signs of struggling from his death, but no signs of break and entry. I don't think this was a murder-driven kill, but I'd have to look more into it to find out exactly what went down," Blake flips the page but the article on the man ends.

Yang lets out a yawn and stretches. "Could be pagan related or demons. Maybe a deal with the devil and our friend Julian here didn't he keep up his end," Yang shrugs laying back into Blake's bed. "Go shower, you smell like adrenaline and hard-ass."

"Shouldn't we be meeting up with your sister and friend?" Blake redirects the comment. They've been traveling for a week together, but Yang never mentioned when and where they would meet with Weiss and Ruby.

Yang doesn't reply, her soft breaths indicate her slumber. Blake sighs. She figures the blonde must be tired. She does do a lot of driving and just as much work as Blake did when they tracked down a vengeful ghost for the past three days.

Blake mumbles a slur but Yang doesn't hear her.

In the shower, she turns the temperature as high as it could go. She knows hot water is bad for her skin but she loves the warmth of it.

Blake thinks back to the Wendigo hunt seven days ago. It took them two hours to get back to car. By the time they made the hike back, the sun had long settled. Yang drove an hour to Kansas City to refuel on some supplies. While she was gas station store, buying who knows what, Blake knocked out in the car. Then she woke up in a motel room. She found Yang passed out in the same bed. After that Blake pushed for nicer hotel rooms and more beds.

 _Did Yang drive all night again?_

The trip from Kansas city to Oasis Plains had to be at least a five hour drive, even if she was speeding in that stupid car of her's. Blake guesses they arrived at the hotel around three in the morning. So at best, the blonde maybe got two to three hours of sleep. She recalls Yang telling her they're leaving as soon as she's done showering and Yang was passed out until then.

She turns the heat down a little, Blake's in a mood for a long shower.

* * *

The ride to the victim's house wasn't too far. Give or take ten minutes from their hotel. His home was surrounded by the yellow caution tape.

"Crime isn't common in this area," Yang mentions, sliding the car into park along the street curb. Blake wished her partner had gotten more sleep but she's satisfied since Yang isn't yawning every five minutes.

It's a nice suburban neighborhood. A place where most people knew each other. Small enough to know all the faces on your street, big enough to blend in at a neighborhood meeting.

"They think it's a crime? I thought the paper cleared that already," Blake eyes the scene.

They step out of the vehicle together and walk around the neighborhood to explore the vicinity for any clues. Blake doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary. A couple of bees fly by her and annoy her for a split second when they flew a little too close to her personal bubble.

There weren't ash residual left by an entity or signs of break-in from the outside by more physical creatures. But she doesn't rule out demonic or spiritual entities just yet.

Yang shrugs. "You believe everything you read in the paper?"

Blake doesn't respond and focuses on the surroundings, but it just eggs Yang on. "You're a lot more naïve than I gave you credit for. Maybe I'm that good," Yang talks the last sentence to herself.

"You drugged me on a date—how was I naïve, I thought I was getting—never mind."

They stop outside a nearby open house. There was coincidentally an event happening this morning. The sign on the front yard read ' _Open House: BBQ!_ '. If she had to guessed, the place was filled with maybe a quarter of the neighborhood. It was a good place to get information if they're going to work this case.

She could feel the blonde's gaze burning a hole in the side of her head. "You thought you were getting what now?"

Seriously, Blake hated her smirk. You could hear it without looking at Yang's face.

"Yang, I meant it when I said I wanted to punch you. Don't make me ruin that pretty face—the neighbors will think I'm abusive."

Blake glares at Yang briefly before knocking on the front door. Yang's face is stuck in confusion.

"Why would they think that?" she asks confused.

The door swings open and a man in his late thirties smiles and welcomes them.

"Hey gals! Wow, you two are easily the most beautiful gay couple I've ever seen—and I'm married to a supermodel, he's great! You two new around here?" a very chipper man excitedly pulls the two of them in. Blake goes along with it, knowing the open house was targeted towards people of all race, gender, sexual orientation, religious view—it was a welcoming sight to see.

Yang clears her throat, suddenly not as cocky Blake recalls. The situation must have thrown her off a little. Her leak of reaction made Blake's morning. It only got better when Yang nearly jumped when Blake snaked her arm around Yang's waist.

"Oh yes, my fiancé and I are looking for a house right now in the area. We thought we'd drop in to meet the neighbors," Blake smiles. It's fake but it passes. "How are you liking it so far darling?" Blake sultry voice was the cause of the unnatural stutter that came from Yang's lips.

"I-It's okay."

She pushes her luck with Yang and takes the extra step. She drapes her free arms around Yang's neck and turns her body to face her. "C'mon, it's better than okay—I saw the way you eyed the house with the winery. You even said it was a bucket-list item of yours to _have fun_ in a winery." Her sultry voice really nailed it for the blonde huntress.

The way Yang's face flushed red made Blake feel like the past few days of putting up with the blonde was worth it. The girl could dish it, but when it came to taking it—Yang was surprisingly shy. Blake liked that. She really liked that.

Yang refused to meet her eyes, not pulling apart from her though. It was a silent challenge Blake sent her. Challenging her and meeting her on the same playing field with the same cards.

The gay man clears his throat as if reminding the two of them there were other people around them.

"Golly! T-that's an interesting bucket-list item you have there," the man addresses Yang. "Anyways, the BBQ started a half hour ago, feel free to wander and mingle! We're quite the social neighborhood!"

Yang doesn't say anything, she just breaks from Blake's hold on her and walks towards the backyard where a small group of the party was located. Blake watches her go for second, wondering if she took a step too far. She wants to chase after her but her attention is caught by a group of middle-aged women gossiping. If you want information on the latest—target the suburban moms.

Blake thinks of a quick backstory to enter the group with confidence. She didn't like social situations, they always drained her. She did know how to socialize though. She picks up a champagne glass for show, she's done drinking things she doesn't pour herself for the time being. Nearing the group, Blake settles to stay out of the conversation. They were quite loud as is.

"I heard Neusooka was demanding they stop building the new high school over on 45. He was protesting about it being an Indian burial ground, I bet he's behind Julian's death!" a woman in her late thirties scoffs.

"Neusooka and his tribe have been hell bent on gaining ownership over that strip of land since the mayor was elected eight year ago. I wouldn't put it below Neusooka to hire a hitman on a construction worker or two."

"I doubt Neusooka would do that—the only thing he hates more than Americans building on his proclaimed burial grounds is wasting money."

"Besides isn't he like against aggressive protest. I almost hate it as much as his hippie protests," another mother chimes.

Blake notes that suburban mothers are not people to be fucked with.

"New around here?" a voice pulls her from eavesdropping.

Blake turns her head and meets a woman older than her. Maybe late thirties. She puts on her best fake smile and ' _mingle_ '.

"Yeah, I'm house shopping actually," Blake says.

"Oh really? I'm Sandra by the way, from 4th and Forest Street," the woman smiles warmly, offering a hand.

Blake shakes her hand and grins, "Isabella, just Bella is fine," Blake lies, providing an alias.

She notes that the woman appears quite rich. The dress code was casual, but she was easily dressed up without looking overbearing for the occasion. She was shorter than Blake, maybe 5'5.

"How are you liking the neighborhood so far, _Bella_?" the woman touches her shoulder and Blake starts to understand what this open house might actually be about.

Blake doesn't shrug off her hand, she didn't want to be rude. She bares being uncomfortable instead.

She thinks of her backstory but answers with a partial truth. "It's nice. Though I think I could do without the bugs. The only thing I hate more than a beetle is a lot of them. Not a fan of bugs."

The woman nods, "I agree, we never had an issue with pest before, but recently the beetle situation was causing conflict with the neighbors. But the city council is handling the bug situation. They recently sprayed more pesticides."

"These pesticides. Do they have any side effects on people?"

Sandra raises her eyebrow, unsure. "It's FDA approved, that's all I can really think of," she sips her drink and continues to run her hand along Blake's arm. "Do _you_ have any side effects?"

The forwardness of her question throws Blake off. Blake wasn't used to be flirted with openly. Sure Yang did it all the time, but before she met Yang—even if it wasn't exactly the real Yang—no one really looked at her like she was…well a meal.

 _Cannibalism jokes after hunting an cannibal? Chill Blake._ She can practically hear Yang teasing her.

Blake tried to think of a response, but she couldn't muster one up—luckily Yang had great timing.

" _Darlin'_ , you have got to try the brisket, it is just absolu—oh gosh," Yang pulled Blake into her. Blake bathes in the warmth that is comes with the contact. She liked the way Yang grabbed her. It wasn't forceful, it was territorial but Blake could escape easily. She should stay though—you know to sell the image.

 _Jealousy looks good on you Xiao Long_.

"I'm sorry, that was rude of me I totally interrupted y'all's conversation," Yang apologized with a seductive southern drawl in her speech. Part of the act Blake notes. "I'm Cheryl, I hope my fiancé here wasn't givin' you too much trouble." Yang smiles at her like she loves her and Blake felt her heartstrings tug.

 _It's an act, it's an act, it's an act_. She repeats in her head to stop herself from thinking about Yang as a cowgirl.

Sandra shakes her head, pulling back all of her obvious flirtation. "Not at all, Bella was telling me about her dislike for bugs," Sandra laughs to shake off the awkwardness, "please excuse me, I must go see to the brisket you speak of!" She almost jets through into the backyard and Blake wanted to laugh if not for the proximity with the other huntress.

She took Yang in next to her. She liked how they were close in height, Yang may have been slightly taller but Blake didn't mind it. There was that citrus scent Blake recognized. Blake didn't like fruity smells but she remembers when she first met Yang five months ago and suddenly became a citrus lover. She doesn't mind it anymore.

"What'd you and cougar talk 'bout?" Yang asks in her normal accent. She's relaxed against Blake, her arm around Blake's waist, keeping her in Yang's orbit. It's comfortingly warm Blake thinks.

"How jealous my fake fiancé gets," Blake grins when Yang's mask leaks a light blush and Blake wants to draw an imaginary point on her imaginary scoreboard.

"I've been told I could've been an actress," she shrugs leading them out. Not without stubbing a couple of shrimp cocktails on the way. Blake laughs and they head out deciding the open house was a little too _open_ for them. She could definitely see the blonde as an actress.

Inside Yang's car they traded information, trying to connect puzzle pieces together but they both knew some pieces were missing. Blake informs Yang about the bug infestation and the pesticides. She adds that maybe the pesticides played a role in Julian's sudden death.

Yang argues that Julian was never outside, he was a workaholic. Work all day only to come home late. It explains the unnurtured garden in his front lawn.

They shake off pesticides for now.

"While you were getting felt up by Ms. Cougar, I went ahead and dug into the street cameras in Sheldon's office." Blake doesn't know who Sheldon is, but she guesses he's the one of the owners at the open house even they attended. Yang pulled out a USB and plugged it into her laptop. "Here's the camera facing Julian's house," she pulls the footage from the night died. It was black and white, and you couldn't see anyone on the inside, but you could tell he was home with his car parked in the driveway.

Yang speeds up the video footage and pauses it, rewinds a little and plays it at half speed. "Luckily, our boy Sheldon doesn't check his camera feeds too often."

Blake watches the tape roll slowly. It appears like a swarm of insects, the footage was too raw to tell which kind, were flying in-sync through Julian's mail slip. After a brief moment, the bugs exit his house the same way they entered.

"That's not normal…" Blake puts frankly.

Yang flicks her forehead. "No shit dummy. To be a huntress is to deal with 'not normal' events. In this case, a freaking swarm of beetles murdered our guy."

She pulls up an image from the newspaper. "Death by beetles would explain the internal bleeds from an external factor."

Blake sat back, thoughts running on why a group of bugs wanted to kill a construction worker. And then it just clicks for her.

"Yang!" Blake shouts excitedly.

Yang looks at her as if they were in a library. Incredulously.

"Yes Blake?" She calls with fake sweetness.

"The PTA moms were gossiping about some Native American named Neusooka. According to them, the chieftain is against the city building new property on burial grounds—but legally it's okay because the city of Oasis Plains has ownership over the land so the Natives can't take it to court therefore—"

Yang cuts in, "—the natives. They trained each bee individually to do flips and magic tricks!" she sarcastically fakes enthusiasm.

Blake flicks her forehead this time around.

"Be serious will you. I think the chieftain placed a curse on the land. A curse that dates back to ancient times, I'm not sure how he got his hands on it though," Blake sighs. She googles Native American tribes in the area on her scroll.

Yang rubs her forehead and reaches over Blake to open the glove compartment. She pulls out a leather strapped book of sorts. Blake eyes the book. It looked weathered down. Like it was from the 1800's.

"What's that?" Blake asks.

Yang doesn't answer immediately, she flips and flips until she finds what she was searching for. "Native American burial grounds. She didn't have a lot on them, but she mentions that the bones of those buried were sacred. ' _Forever protected by nature_ ' an Indian phrase literally translates," Yang reads from the page.

Sensing Blake's silence, Yang looks up and realized she asked a question.

Yang sits up straight and holds the book like it's a product for ridiculous informercials. "Consider it my holy bible for anything supernatural related that I don't know off the top of my head. Whenever Weiss is too busy, I'd rely on this instead. It's my mom's journal," Yang hands the book over to Blake and starts the Impala into drive. "It's probably my most prized possession, so be careful with that." She slides the last sentence in carefully.

Blake nods. She notes to herself that Yang treasure something other than her hair or car. A book of all the things. An amazing book actually.

The written detail in this journal was absolutely astounding. Hundreds of pages on monsters Blake's never ever heard of, curses she didn't think existed and more she felt she had to learn about. Blake could tell Yang's mother was quite the fulfilled huntress just from her knowledge alone.

The page on the Indian burial grounds and sacred bones was under the _curses_ section. The journal was like a well organized mess. Everything related to curses was messily written down under the topic. Still the notes were informative and organized enough for structure. It was a trait Blake appreciated when reading something this heavy.

"A couple pages after the burial notes, she includes that you can get rid of the curse by finding the actual bones and cremate them." Blake scans the notes.

Yang looks at her dumbfounded. "That's almost impossible, for two reasons. One, there's no way we're going to find the bones. Two, there could be like hundreds of them. Even if we did find them all—it's not going to look good if we cremated a field of Indian bones."

"Not healthy for the conscience either," Blake adds.

Yang laughs in agreement. "Wouldn't want the pseudo-death of hundreds of Indians on my conscience."

"Where are we going though?" Blake asks. She looks around as Yang drives through the neighborhood.

"The casino!" Yang grins and Blake can't tell if she's serious.

"Neusooka's casino."

Blake makes an 'o' shape with her mouth and looks back down at the holy bible of supernatural knowledge.

* * *

The car is silent, but it's comfortable. The local rcok'n'roll radio was playing 90's tunes and Yang seemed to be a fan from the way she knew all the lyrics and beated her thumbs along with the beat. Blake thinks the blonde is relaxing to be around like this.

"Any good at gambling?" Yang makes small talk after a couple minutes of driving.

Blake shrugs. "I know a bit."

Her answer wasn't much but it draws a grin from Yang's face as she parks the car at a large casino, the lights bright and blaring even midday. "Gear up Belladonna, you're going swindling!" she throws spare clothes into Blake's face and lap. She sorts through them and realizes the get-up is quite fancy. Yang threw her a dress, it was a light friendly blue sundress. The length wasn't as long as Blake would've preferred for weapon purposes, but it'll do since they're dealing with humans.

Blake stops Yang from exiting the car. "Wait—just me? What are you doing?"

There was a brief hesitation in her lilacs. It was too brief to make anything of it, Blake's head is probably playing with her again. "Searching the perimeter. Meet me in the car in no more than 30," Yang grins before she pulls away, leaving Blake alone to get dressed. Changing in a car is not something she was used to.

The inside of the casino was buzzing with lively gamblers and stoic dealers. It was a popular place for half the town to be at this time of the day. There were waiters walking around with a tray of wine glasses. It was a ploy to get gamblers more drunk, only to spend more money.

Blake didn't like the way the dress felt around her. It was nice, but if she had to make a run for it then she might be in trouble because one, she was terrible at fighting anything in a dress; two, she was terrible at running in heels. She sighs into her wine glass of water, she rather be running the perimeter check than socializing with money hounds.

Blake sits herself at a blackjack table, there was only one other occupant beside the dealer across from them. It was an older woman. She looked like she lived a full life and was enjoying her Sundays gambling away the rest of it. Blake notes the woman was of Native American descent from her necklace and hair pattern. When the woman looks her way, Blake offers an awkward grin.

She knew how to play blackjack. It was an individual versus dealer game with up to how many seats they had open. She chose this table for reasons: the native woman and blackjack is the best game for making friends, unless you're trying to be friends with the dealer.

Blake's dealt her first hand and it's a queen of spades and the queen of hearts. A good hand she notes.

"There's a story about these cards," the old woman's friendliness made Blake more comfortable. "The queen card indicates a woman in her youth. The queen of hearts represents a woman of confidence and love. The queen of spades is the opposite. Filled with uncertainty, but the potential to be. Which one are you darling?"

She looks down at her hand. Blake knows the answer, but the way the woman spoke was eerie. "I doubt I'd ever pass for a queen. Perhaps a joker of sorts," Blake voids the question. However, she may have accidentally answered the woman's curiosity.

She chuckles and taps the table, ordering the dealer to hit. "Where are you traveling from?"

Blake thinks of New York, but it didn't really feel like home to her. She did live there for the past two years, it was an escape from her hunting life. She didn't want to be a part of this anymore, but here she was talking to an old eerie lady at some casino in Oklahoma. She barely knew her partner, save for the some months of them pretending to be normal. "Kansas." Blake settles. It wasn't exactly a lie, they did come from Kansas.

The woman eyed her funny. "You don't look the part," she critiques Blake.

"I get that a lot. I'm here with my fiancé actually," Blake thinks of the backstory. "She's from Kansas and she really wanted to visit Neusooka's."

The woman's gaze changed to one of contempt and understanding.

"I hear a lot of things about Neusooka," Blake says.

"Good or bad?" the woman smiles as if she's heard this before.

Blake looks around. "Varies, depends on the person. What's your opinion?"

She older woman checks her new hand of cards and squints in doing so. She looks back over to Blake afterwards. "I say this with a grain of salt dear, especially at my age," she chuckles, "he's damn old-fashioned."

Blake raises her eyebrow, silently asking the woman to go on.

"I've known him for a long time now. His wife is my sister actually," she provides. "He hates young people. Thinks they're destroying nature—but he has the audacity to build casinos on every corner of Oasis."

"I heard they're building that new high school over on 45. Neusooka not a fan of school construction?"

The woman shakes her head. "He doesn't mind children, he's not too bad with them really. He's against that specific construction site because he claims the soil there is full with ancient history that dates before any of the major Wars."

Blake nods. "A burial ground? If it's an Indian burial ground, then why would the government have settlement over it?"

The woman hums, her face glossed over. "Not a burial ground—more like a hidden _graveyard_."

It doesn't take much for Blake to place the pieces together. If the construction site wasn't an Indian burial ground for the fallen, but instead a graveyard then they weren't dealing with government-Indian politics. This was the cause of an internal dispute within the Indians.

Blake thanks the lady for her stories and speed walks back to the car, hoping Yang would be in there. Since the burial ground isn't an actual burial ground, they now know it's not the soil that's enriched but instead at most a handful of buried Natives. They just have to find out exactly where they're buried now.

She rounds the parking lot and spots Yang's car and Yang sitting in the driver's seat with the window down. Blake was going to enter as normal until she overheard the blonde talking to someone.

"Weiss, swear to my deathbed that if you get the ones with pink coats—I'll personally make it my dying wish to mix your color-coded binder."

Blake ducked and hides from the blonde's rear mirror. Yang seemed to be on the phone with the snow-haired girl Blake saw in the photos yesterday.

"She's good. Little rusty for my taste. How's Ruby—she okay?" the worry evident in Yang's voice. A brief silence on Yang's end, assuming Weiss was talking from the other side of the scroll. "She's strong, you just gotta push her. Try baking cookies, the girl has an affinity for sweets…" Yang's voice familiar with joy, but there's a hint of sadness that makes Blake feel bad for eavesdropping.

It's not that she didn't trust Yang. She believes Yang was telling her the truth about the seer and meant well, but Blake could tell when someone was holding something from her. No matter how small or large the secret was, Blake knows Yang was keeping something important from her. She still didn't make sense of her soulmate comment yesterday.

"Call me if she has more trouble adjusting. Bye ice queen!" Yang's voice teasing. At least she wasn't the only person that got teased by the blonde. Poor Weiss. She probably had to put up with Yang for so much longer. Blake doesn't know how she does it. "I'm done talking to my mistress babe," Yang jokes, calling out to Blake. "Spying is unhealthy for relationships you know," she teases her.

Seriously how did Weiss deal with this.

"I didn't wanna interrupt." Blake shrugs, closing the car door. "Pink coats?"

Yang starts the car. "Weiss is resupplying ammo for me and she thought the pink shells would be better. 'Women empowerment' she tells me," Yang rolled her eyes and air-quoted Weiss's words. "Anyways, I found a couple of more dead beetles around the perimeter and on the roof—"

"How'd you get on the roof?" Blake questioned, the place didn't exactly have a roof entrance.

"I climbed," Yang answers dumbfoundedly like that was obvious. Blake looks at her hands to see dusty red powder, most likely from the red-bricks. "I also found some paper charms. The ones you used to ward off bad spirits. In this case, they warded off the beetles—which I assume is being controlled by a spirit."

"So we're dealing with a spirit?"

"No sure, when I was hanging around the third story. I got a good look at Neusooka's office." Blake makes a questionable face at Yang, silently asking her why on earth she was hanging off the side of the casino, but ignores voicing it when Yang just grins back. "There was a family photo of him when he was younger. He had an older brother. I looked it up and found out his brother has been dead for fourteen years. I dug around his office and found—"

"You broke into his office?..."

Yang ignores the question and continues, "I found a missing persons poster for his brother, Kileeri. Several of them actually. He went missing, still is missing but they told the public that Kileeri died of some unknown liver disease." Yang hands the missing person paper to Blake to gaze over.

Blake looks at it. It was a Native American and he looked like his brother did now. "Yang I think I got it," Blake pieces it all together for the last time. "Kileeri wasn't missing—he was murdered. When I spoke to a lady in the casino, she told me that the construction site we thought were burial grounds, were in fact: not burial grounds, but instead a graveyard. I didn't think there was a difference, but whoever murdered him couldn't bury him at the burial grounds with the other natives."

"Neusooka murdered his brother," Yang said, speeding out of the parking lot of the casino, off into wherever her point was going. "Neusooka wouldn't have inherited all that he did if his brother was alive—therefore he killed his own brother. He uses the charms as protection seals from his brother's vengeful spirit. Nature is apart of Kileeri's bloodline, therefore the bugs side with him. They're the ones that killed Julian because if Kileeri's body is found than the construction site would be considered a burial ground—it's two birds with one stone for Neusooka's profits." Yang clarifies.

"Yang, the construction site is literally the size of a high school. How are we going to find his body before night time?" seeing as the beetles would strike after sun fall.

They pulled up at the construction site and Yang grabs a shovel from the back seat. Blake's not even going to ask why that's there. "The ground has been untouched for decades, we just gotta look for the soft patch of raised dirt. Also, beetles," Yang points out the window, behind Blake. There were beetles and other bugs flying around the area, circling a small area. "Think we got our guy," she grins, walking out.

Blake follows her after changing back into her hunter's clothes. It's really just a pair of black jeans, a white graphic tee and a leather jacket to match her boots and jeans. She's not going to thank Yang for packing her extra sets of clothes, but she does appreciate the action. When she catches up to Yang, the blonde was already standing over what she believes is Kileeri's buried bones.

"That him?" Blake asks.

Yang nods, "They don't work on Sundays, so we're in luck—get digging Belladonna!" Yang hands her a shovel.

It took them ten minutes of digging until they finally hit a wooden box. It was moldy and broken at the edges. They check inside to find Kileeri's degenerated bones, his long hair was braided still. His finger nails showed signs of struggle. Poor guy was buried alive.

"Raise and shine Kileeri! It's cremation time," Yang pulls out a gallon of gasoline. She hands it over to Blake to pour on the wooden coffin of bones. She pours a good amount to get the cremation over with as quickly as possible. Yang lights the match stick when Blake gives her the go-ahead, tossing it in. Effectively setting fire to the coffin and set of bones.

They sit on top of Yang's car trunk, waiting for the ashes to die out.

"Exactly how long have you been a huntress?" Blake asks, watching the sun set beside the blonde beauty. Yang's face is a smiling calm and she likes it.

"Hard to say. I lived with my dad, my parents were never really together, but divorced would describe them well." She explains, laying with her eyes on the clouds. "My dad was against me becoming a huntress, so when I was with him during the weekdays, I wasn't allowed to do anything hunting related." She smiles at his memory. "He owns a food truck based in Maryland now."

Blake watched her as she spoke fondly about her father. Wondering where their relationship lied now since Yang was a full-fledged huntress much to his despise. "What about your mom?"

Yang's expression changes to a darker look. It was weird to see the normally bubbly girl upset. "I spent weekends with her since I was two. In her household—which she didn't actually have since we were always traveling the states to hunt—she taught me everything I know about hunting. I don't know where she is these days though, I last saw her about six years ago." Yang doesn't look like she wanted to disclose more on the woman so Blake doesn't push.

Instead, she offers her own childhood. "My dad taught me everything. My mom was normal so when they got married, he settled down, but according to them—I was born to hunt so my dad showed me the ropes. Eventually I started doing my own research and learning my way around the trade," Blake relies the memories. She was about to tell Yang about a hunt she did in Oklahoma a couple years ago, but was interrupted by the sound of death by bugs. A swarm. It's a swarm.

"Blakey you see that too right?" Yang eyes the incoming swarm of bugs.

They were heading their direction, feasting toward her and Yang. "Yang—what's going on, I thought they don't attack until dark."

Yang points up, "the sun's setting, think of it as an early wake-up call for them," she tries to stay light-hearted before they meet death by bugs. "Son of a gun isn't going down without a fight!" Yang launches herself off of the car trunk, grabbing the canton of gasoline at the rise of her feet. "Blake get in the trunk." She tells her as she tosses the remaining gasoline into the pit of fire that is Kileeri's remains.

"What? I'm not—"

Yang turns on her heel and pulls Blake off the trunk—and then into it. Blake rolls into the surprisingly roomy trunk. Though there's a crap ton of weapons she notes. None of them were loaded since the clips were all half-locked with the safeties on. There was a large bag of salt that Blake's head laid on. Before Blake could prop herself around the trunk, another body rolls into hers with a click of the trunk closing.

Yang had jumped into the trunk with her. It wasn't exactly roomy anymore. Blake didn't know how hiding in a trunk full of monster hunting weapons was going to save them from an angry swarm of bugs controlled by an angry spirit they were trying to cremate. Better yet, if they survive how the hell were they getting out.

Yang moves around, grabbing something in her pocket. Her legs tangled with Blake's and her backside was pushing against Blake's frontside. It wasn't helping Blake deal with her attraction to the blonde these days. "Can you not move?!" Blake whisper shouts, not sure what she's whispering for.

Yang groans and accidentally elbows Blake when pulling what she thinks is her scroll, out of her pocket. "Sorry," Yang says, turning to face Blake, chest to chest with her now.

"How is this going to help against a swarm of tiny angry bugs, they'll just squeeze through the car vent." Blake's tone annoyed.

Yang doesn't answer her, but in a way she does when her scroll light turns on. On the inside of the trunk door was a protection pentagram. Hunters often used the pentagram to stop from possession and trap demonic and spiritual entities. Therefore, the trunk served as a safe place away from the spiritually controlled bugs. Blake doesn't say anything at the blonde's quick thinking, but Yang's smirk annoys her still.

"Think we have time for a quickie?"

"Yang I'm not going to have sex with you in a car trunk."

"Not sex you idiot, a nap." Yang laughs, baiting the brunette. "But that doesn't sound bad either," her voice playful, sending shivers down Blake's back when she runs her hand along Blake's arm.

It reminds her of the past half-year they spent flirting with each other. It puts a sour taste in Blake's mouth. Like Yang was just playing with her the entire time. Like she didn't actually know the blonde in front of her.

"I'm kidding." Yang's smirk fell, an apologetic look replaced it.

"Was it real?" Blake asked suddenly.

Yang's eyebrow quirks up in question. "The quickie offer…uh—"

"Us. The past six months, the coffee dates, the flirting and the study dates, the fish tacos!" Blake spouts. She watches Yang's face become surprised for once. She hated feeling like she was ten steps behind the blonde, she hated not being able to do that to her, but right now she felt even. "The you I had the pleasure of knowing for half the year—was that Yang _real._ When you left me at the hotel four months ago and when you took me to see the new Remnant movie to make up for it—was anything real..."

Yang doesn't answer her right away, breaking eye contact and pulling as far away as she could from Blake. Not that it was that far, they were still in contact. It didn't help with all the sexual tension that built up from the past months. It was suffocating Blake right now. She didn't even care about the stupid bugs buzzing from the outside of the car. The pentagram was doing more than protecting her right now, it was getting her answers.

She felt her patience run thin, "Yang—"

"Yes. It was me. I think, I don't know," Yang says unsure. Blake watches her conflicted face. The crinkle between her eyebrows made Blake believe her.

"What do mean you don't know?"

Yang sighed, turning her back to Blake. "I've been searching for my mother for the past six years. I haven't been a normal person in so long. I can fake my identity for a mission and interrogate people—but when it comes to living normally, I don't know who I'd be. I've been a huntress my entire life, I don't know any other reason to be here." It's sad. Her voice. Like she's been through more lost than the average 24-year-old should've. "I never lied."

It's unnerving Blake. All the times they spent together, it was the real Yang. Confused and unsure of who she was at some law school. It made sense. Yang never seemed to like the one class they had together. Blake was wondering how the hell the girl got in at all.

But that also meant the times they went shopping for clothes and jogging in the rain together—it was really Yang she was with. It relieved her to know this. She didn't waste the past six months opening up to someone fake. Yang's real.

There were so many questions on her mind, but she asks the one she couldn't leave without knowing the answer to.

"Yang, what did you mean when you said you were my soulmate."

Blake watches her back tense up and body shift. Yang lies on her back now, trying not to get too close to Blake still.

The memory of her telling Blake about a seer ran through her eyes.

"About ten months ago, I ran into a seer named Paula. She told me she had been looking for me. She said she had a message and that she had to read my future so I said 'why the hell not' and gave it go," Yang explains. "First the message she sent me was from an unknown source, a good person she says. It informed me about the war that's coming in the near future. A year or five years' time she told me," Yang goes on to explain the prophecy about her sister being an important factor in this theoretical war.

"When she read my future, she told me about you. Where you were, why you were there, what you were going to be a part of. How you needed to feel alive again."

The buzzing from the outside had died down along with the crackles of the burning ashes of a long-passed Native American leader, but Blake's still holding her breath.

Yang turns to face Blake. Lilacs meet golds.

"She said our destinies are forever tied together. ' _For better or worse_ '," Yang quotes the woman.

Blake doesn't really think about what she does next, she was tired of thinking before she acted. She as tired of the anticipation and the dumb lingering feelings she felt whenever she was near the blonde. She wanted it be gone, but the more she ignored the touches and shoved head over heart—the more she realized she couldn't run from this. So she kissed the girl.

Blake pulls Yang into her, her left hand grasping the back of Yang's head and smashing their lips together. Completely catching the got off-guard. Struck by surprise, Yang took a moment to respond, liberating the feelings they both had built up from the past few months of being normal together. They pulled into each other for more.

The kiss is angry at first, filled with emotion from both sides. Their tongues fought for dominance, electrocuting each other every time one pulled away. Yang's hands roam her body, one in her hair tossing it around and the other sliding itself along Blake's ribcage; right beside her pentagram tattoo. It was when Blake touched Yang's own pentagram tattoo that the blonde pulled away, breathing heavy and lilacs open wide staring into Blake's ambers.

"I—I, we—" she stutters uncharacteristically.

Blake's good at running. She probably could've run track in high school but she wasn't a fan of the sport. She ran to and from danger. She's gone running with Yang around New York. Safe to say Blake was a runner. But she also ran from her problems.

Blake couldn't deal with the backlash of this right now so she escaped the trunk through propping the backseats down. Giving space between the two of them and leaving Yang in shock.

It was going to be an awkward car ride.

* * *

 **A/N: So question for y'all! I'm wondering if these chapters are too long. I personally like the length, it gives me a chance to make a better plotline for the case they're working on. Let me know? I might consider cutting them in half if the story is hard to follow. Thanks y'all!**

 **Also this is all I have completed (the rest is editing/in-progress) so I probably won't post for another day or two lol**


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